


Comforting

by farevenasdecidedtouse



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Backrubs, Hurt/Comfort, Loyalty Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 13:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8104984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farevenasdecidedtouse/pseuds/farevenasdecidedtouse
Summary: Governance burdened the Emperor as heavily as silk-and-brocade robes this day.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dragonsigma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonsigma/gifts).



Governance burdened the Emperor as heavily as silk-and-brocade robes this day. The Corazhas had filed one by one from the Verven’theileian minutes before and yet Edrehasivar still sat, staring at the table before him. He had slept poorly, Cala knew, following a late previous night at the head of a ceremonial procession through the streets of Cetho, and the approaching evening with its neatly sorted stack of correspondence and decisions to be made looked no less arduous. To the former effect, Mer Aisava had begun to pointedly gather up the meeting minutes with occasional sidelong glances toward His Serenity.

“Csevet,” the Emperor finally instructed him, “please await us in the Tortoise Room. We will make our way there in time for our late appointments, only give us a moment.”

“Serenity,” Mer Aisava replied with a nod. He lingered only the doorway only a moment, murmuring, “You will let us know if you require anything, yes? Or alert your nohecharei?”

“We will. Thank you, Csevet,” the Emperor replied in the tone of polite but final dismissal that he had worked so hard to cultivate. His head was dangerously close to resting on the surface of the rosewood and gilt table, and the sentiment which had threatened to betray Cala since their first meeting as liege and servant overwhelmed him.

“Serenity,” he asked, stepping forward from his position near the door, “may we?” The nod was a small but frantic motion, disarranging a number of green-and-silver enamel combs that Cala eased back into place before pressing his fingers to the back of the Emperor's— _Maia’s_ —neck. Long, pale, ink-stained fingers kneaded and manipulated tense grey flesh, insistently seeking out the smallest knots and dissolving them into comfortable order with an ease like magic itself, and with a soft, desperate noise, the Emperor began to relax, moreso than Cala had seen him allow himself to all day. Beneath layers of eggshell silk and iridescent silver weave, the flesh of Maia’s neck and shoulders slowly softened along with his breathing and posture. He now lay with his upper body across the table, head propped on his arms like a student slumbering through a tiresome lesson, and the thought charmed Cala enough for him to lay a kiss to the back of Maia’s neck. This prompted Maia in turn to rise from the chair and lay another, fuller kiss to Cala’s lips.

Cala’s fingers were bony and unskilled, yet from the first time he had proposed such an unorthodox gesture, until Maia had turned around to embrace him to long to be simple relieved affection until the touch had turned heated and urgent, until he had taken the innocence of the 209th Emperor of the Elflands against the wall of his private study, Cala whispering _I have thee, I love thee, let me take thy mind from thy troubles—_ Cala drew a breath, forcibly dragging himself from the recollection. From the first, Maia had welcomed his touch with an eagerness that went beyond simple pleasure and spoke of a lifetime of deprivation of such a simple thing. It was within Cala’s power to bestow, indeed falling (as he told himself) within the purview of his protection of the Emperor’s mind and spirit to the point that even the disapprobation he had expected from Beshelar had not come. _Do you truly think there is no precedent for this sort of thing?_ he had demanded gruffly. _Do what you will, and we will keep our watch, and our counsel._ Even now Cala knew he stood somewhere near the door, eyes respectfully focused on points around them but never directly upon them, his presence both comforting and sharpening the sweet moments stolen wherever they might be.

They lingered so, Maia’s arms twined about Cala’s shoulders, Cala stroking his flanks in the manner designed to soothe him, until a chime from the clock outside the tall, draped windows drew Maia back from him as inexorably as clockwork himself. The evening still stretched ahead of them, but Maia's ears had lifted, his eyes bright with the suggestion of desire but also with a hopeful calm. “Thank you,” he murmured, meeting Cala’s eyes with a look so full of trust and relief that Cala felt his heart flood with sheer tenderness once more.

"Serenity," he replied, the syllables filled with as much feeling as his hands as the three of them stepped from the room.


End file.
